


Stutter

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Bruce Feels, Drabble, F/M, Female Bruce, Kid Fic, M/M, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were times Bryce had been afraid of this. An unconscious (conscious, so very damned conscious) fear that had lingered (screamed) in the back of her mind, a reverberation of the Hulk’s line, his pulse, his warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stutter

* * *

* * *

 

 

_“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better._

_Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.”_

There were times Bryce had been afraid of this. An unconscious (conscious, so very damned conscious) fear that had lingered (screamed) in the back of her mind, a reverberation of the Hulk’s line, his pulse, his warning. Times that the mere idea of it had spiraled her into flashbacks and nightmares of _his_ screams, _his_ anger, _his_ fists reigning into her bones, _his_ disappointment an overwhelming undertow that had put a gun in her mouth long before the Hulk.

_“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid. You were made to go out and get her._

_The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better.”_

She knew there had been times for Tony, too. He had played it off in the beginning, but after it had become official she had caught him staring out into nothing more times than not. He hadn’t talked about it (wouldn’t ever, no matter how often she tried to start the conversation) but once or twice, stepping into his workshop unannounced with JARVIS’ allowance, she had seen him sitting in the passenger seat of his old car, staring blankly at a screen with Howard’s face, the words “my greatest creation” stuck on endless repeat.

_“And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain. Don't carry the world upon your shoulders_

_For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool, by making his world a little colder.”_

It’s 4:13am – Bryce has gotten eight hours of sleep in the past three days, and Tony even less. Yet she’s the one standing quietly in the doorway, nightshirt swaying gently in the breeze of the rotating fan as the self-proclaimed irresponsible billionaire sways from side-to-side in soft movements in his own pajamas, voice low as he _sings_ to the child cradled in his steady arms, looking for all the world as if it was fatherhood, and not Iron Man, that he had been put on this earth for.

 

_“Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah.”_

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude.”_

It’s a stupid fear and has always been a stupid fear because Tony is nothing and has never been anything like her father, is nothing like his father. Tony turns, just slightly, just enough for her to catch sight of the sleeping baby (their baby, _her_ baby, _fuck_ ), and he grins, something small and fond, smoothing his hand over the wisps of Jude’s raven hair in a move so gentle that it makes her breath stutter.

 

“ _Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude.”_

 

 


End file.
